


no reason

by violaceum_vitellina_viridis



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Punk, Chases, Face-Fucking, Feral Behavior, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Lambert (The Witcher), Voyeurism, no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violaceum_vitellina_viridis/pseuds/violaceum_vitellina_viridis
Summary: “I’ll make you pay for that!”“Will you?”Aiden and Lambert are punks who fuck each other. Fic is just drabbles/ficlets strung together.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sup! this is literally just almost-porn and porn. if there ever ends up being more than 2 chapters, they'll just be unconnected stories that take place vaguely in the same universe. all you need to know is that aiden and lambert are punks that live together.
> 
> my lovely shannon wrote a piece in this universe too, that can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24429418)

The old, metal door bounces off the brick with a jarring clang, only just drowned out by the sound of screaming guitars streaming out of the entryway. Aiden ignores all of that and the new tear in his jacket, darting out of the alley way and over a low wall separating the back from the parking lot, laughing out loud when he hears the fluctuation of noise and another bang as Lambert follows him out.

“I’ll make you pay for that!”

“Will you?” Aiden shouted back, dodging around a corner and easily scaling the side of a fire escape. The myriad of metal studs and pins he’s wearing make an awful racket as he clambers around the rusted metal, but it’s not stealth he’s going for, it’s speed.

And anyway, Lambert catching him is half of the fun.

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to make it _easy_.

He scrambles up onto the roof and sprints across to the other side, dropping down into the alley that cuts between it and the next building. There’s a high fence at one end that he climbs easily; he turns at the top just in time to catch sight of Lambert at the edge of the roof he’d just come from.

“You’re getting slow!” he goads before dropping down to the other side of the fence and booking it.

The chase goes on for another fifteen minutes. Aiden takes advantage of being thinner, using it to dart around people in the crowded street, cackling freely when he hears the commotion of Lambert barreling through behind him. But eventually, even Aiden makes a mistake; the alley he turns into has a dead end and nothing to climb.

He loses his breath on a grunt and a laugh as his back slams into the damp brick. Lambert snarls right into his face, aura seething with pent-up energy, and Aiden laughs again, tipping his head back against the rough brick and going lax in the scant space between the wall and Lambert’s broad chest.

“Feral fucking alley cat,” Lambert hisses, fingers bruising where they grip around Aiden’s wrist. He’s barely even out of breath, the absolute bastard – Aiden promises to himself that one day, _one day_ , he’ll best the brute. Somehow. “Starting a fight like that and fucking _bolting_ , you _asshole_. Should punish you for it.”

“Oh, please?” Aiden flutters his eyelashes.

Lambert snarls again, and the kiss they share tastes like blood and vodka.

“Put you on your knees right here,” Lambert growls against his lips, “teach you a lesson.”

Aiden gasps and bucks forward against Lambert’s weight pinning him to the wall. “I’d do it,” he pants. “I would, you know I would – ”

“ _Fucking hell,_ Aiden,” Lambert hisses, and Aiden’s pretty sure he hears a seam rip when Lambert paws at his jeans but it’s really hard to give a fuck. Lambert’s hand is hot and too rough around his cock, but he wants _more_. His hips jerk readily into the touch, and Lambert’s lip splits against his teeth.

There’s no more words for a long while, just the sound of skin on skin and the small moans Aiden can’t bite back. Lambert is pressed close, but his torso is angled away; Aiden sees the way his gaze is flickering, up and down, like he can’t decide whether to focus on Aiden’s face or his cock. That, really, is just too much – Aiden lets out an embarrassing sound, like a goddamn tea kettle exploding, and comes all over Lambert’s hand and arm.

Lambert laughs, but the ire doesn’t have the chance to settle in Aiden’s pleasure-hazed brain before they’re kissing again. A little gentler this time, though even that’s ruined when Lambert smears cooling cum all over Aiden’s shirt.

“Fuck you.”

Lambert smirks. “Maybe. Think you can catch me, alley cat?”

He ducks out of the alley. Aiden groans and fumbles his cock back into his pants.


	2. fat lip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s not often that Aiden sees green._
> 
> Aiden takes Lambert out back to teach him a lesson and ends up with more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one can be blamed partially on kate. she was disappointed that the last one didn't have an alley facefuck, so,,, this one happened. she also suggested jaskier.

It’s not often that Aiden sees green.

Red, yeah, that’s a nightly thing. Anger is easy, familiar – and, really, considering the streets he walks, safe. Much easier to talk with your fists.

But this – this, he can’t punch this away. Or, well, he could, but _fuck_ , Geralt had tanned his hide the last time he accidentally gave Lambert a black eye. He isn’t about to make that mistake again.

Doesn’t mean he can’t teach his stray wolf a goddamned lesson, though.

* * *

There is no way the kid is legal.

That’s the first thing Aiden notices. Tall and thin and pink-cheeked, he thinks there’s no way the kid is older than seventeen. If he is, he’s definitely not old enough for the neon pink cocktail in his hand. Not that Lambert seems to be even the slightest bit concerned about that.

Aiden seethes.

Sure, the kid is pretty, in a whorish way. Messy brown hair, wide blue eyes, sticking out like a sore fucking thumb in a dive bar wearing grey cutoffs and a baby-blue crop top over fishnets. Not Lambert’s type at all, but clearly he’s got some kind of charm, because the fucker is clearly taken in.

So taken in, in fact, that he doesn’t even notice Aiden until he’s got a hand around Lambert’s bicep. Sloppy – could fucking get himself killed, not paying attention like that. They’ll talk about that later, though, because frankly, Aiden’s not in the right headspace to do something like use his words right now.

Lambert grunts when Aiden shoves him. The kid makes some kind of protest, but Aiden doesn’t hear it; he’s too busy staring Lambert down, and then, when Lambert catches the fucking hint, dragging him toward the back. The fire exit hasn’t been alarmed in decades, so there’s nothing to indicate their departure aside from a gust of cold air and the bang of beaten metal against brick.

“Aiden, what the fuck – ”

Aiden doesn’t bother letting him finish or answering the question he knows will follow. “On your knees,” he hisses, pairing it with a good shove when Lambert doesn’t do anything but gape.

Luckily, Lambert catches on quickly at that. He hits the ground with a mildly pained grunt but doesn’t complain; instead, he settles back onto his heels, shoulders slumped, head tilted back. One of his thumbs hooks easily into the beltloop of Aiden’s jeans, pressing his knuckles against the bulge of Aiden’s cock. “Yeah?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye that Aiden loves, desperately, and hates all at once. “Not usually the jealous type, baby.”

Aiden huffs. “Shut up,” he mutters, tearing at his jeans. Lambert helps, hands cupping around his hips as soon as his cock is out to pull him in. He’s not all the way hard, but seeing Lambert so willingly on his knees is getting him there quickly. Lambert’s mouth does the rest of the work.

“Fuck.” Aiden can’t help but hiss, one hand automatically falling to Lambert’s hair; short, but not short enough to grab. He’s noticed that the other man has been keeping it longer than he used to. It feels him with a very specific heat that’s far more than just arousal, so he tries to push the thought aside. It’s easy to take control, to pull Lambert further onto his cock. The other man just groans and relaxes, eyes fluttering when he rolls them up to look at Aiden; it punches a groan out of _his_ chest, and he can’t help but thrust, quick and rough.

Lambert just moans again and moves his hands from Aiden’s hips to behind his own back.

“ _Fuck_.” Just the sight of it nearly sets him off, but he manages to control himself. Barely. He shuffles forward, tugging at Lambert’s hair to make him follow, until he’s tipped back with his shoulders against the brick behind him. Aiden cushions his head with his hand. “Alright?”

Lambert nods, eyes already a little hazy, and Aiden grunts, hips jerking forward once more. Lambert just swallows sloppily around the intrusion and goes even more limp, enough that on the next forward thrust Aiden pushes easily into his throat. He gags, but his hands don’t move, and when Aiden looks down, he _watches_ Lambert’s cock twitch through his pants.

He’s not going to last much longer, but he may as well give Lambert what he clearly wants in the meantime. He thrusts a little harder, a little faster, heedless of the way Lambert chokes and gags; as long as his hands don’t come back up to Aiden’s hips, he’s enjoying himself.

Aiden’s orgasm hits him like a sucker punch. He damn near doubles over, cock still pressed into Lambert’s mouth, and has to bite his cheek bloody to stop from shouting. Lambert makes a muffled, slurred noise and swallows reflexively, drawing out the pleasure until Aiden’s thighs are shaking. He has to shift his hands from Lambert’s head to the wall to brace himself. Lambert finally pulls back as far as he can, the head of Aiden’s softening cock still in his mouth.

Somehow, he manages to smirk around it, and Aiden wants to hit him but instead he pulls back, leans down, and kisses him. Lambert kisses back clumsily, one of his hands coming up to Aiden’s hair, the other shoving into his jeans. Aiden just grasps his shoulder and steadies him while he jerks off, mumbling nonsense praise until Lambert spills into his pants with a whine.

They sit and breathe for a moment, Aiden bent uncomfortably and Lambert still on his knees on the asphalt. Then there’s a quite gasp from somewhere to their right, and Lambert is on his feet immediately, stepping between whoever it is and Aiden.

It’s the kid from the bar.

“I’m sorry,” he says, immediately. “I didn’t mean to – ”

Aiden snorts. “Didn’t meant to _what_?” he asks. “Watch like a dirty fucking voyeur?”

The kid makes a short, choked noise. “ _Yeah,_ ” he says. “I just – I was…worried.”

Lambert’s the one to snort, now. “Worried?” he says, and his voice is fucking _wrecked._ Aiden shoves his cock back into his pants and pointedly _does not_ think about it. “About _me_?”

“He looked mad,” the kid says softly, stepping a little closer to them. “I thought – ”

Aiden didn’t like this kid on sight, sure, but he’s never been able to deal with people who look so sad. “You assumed the worst,” he says. “Fair enough, kid. How long have you been out here, though? Because I really don’t think you should be here at _all._ ”

“Kid? I’m twenty-three,” the kid scoffs.

Aiden is sure his face expresses exactly what he thinks about that, and the kid rolls his eyes and pulls a wallet out of his pants. “I’m sure you can spot a fake ID,” he says, and hands his license over.

He’s right, Aiden can absolutely spot a fake ID. And the one he’s holding _isn’t_ fake. What the absolute fuck. Right there in bold numbers is the kid’s birthdate, and he’s as old as he says he is. Aiden scoffs and flips the ID back to him.

“Alright, fine,” he says. “You make a habit of watching people fuck in back alleys, _kid_?”

The kid – _Julian_ , according to his ID, but Aiden isn’t going to use his name – snorts, but then his expression changes. He looks…frankly, _wicked_. It’s a bit of a trip to see such a babyface look so cunning. “No,” he answers. “But I’d _definitely_ hang around to watch you two, again.”

**Author's Note:**

> apparently when i listen to punk/punk-adjacent music, these little things happen.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Nazi Punks Fuck Off](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24429418) by [childoffantasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/childoffantasy/pseuds/childoffantasy)




End file.
